Testament of Athena
by Ame-san
Summary: Seven years after the war, Dorothy Catalonia has changed if not for the better. Originally written for the Women at War Challenge.


* * *

Pairings: None  
Warnings: None  
Rated: G  
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, and I am not making any profit off of this fanfic.

* * *

Testament of Athena  
by Ame-san  
  
A newly polished black Cadillac parked temporarily at the bottom of the grand marble steps, which led to the entrance of New Port City's Capitol building. A woman in her mid-twenties gracefully emerged from the back seat of the car, and with a wave to her driver, she began climbing up the endless fifty steps. The icy wind seemed to eat through her long black wool coat as she quickened her pace; she wanted desperately to get out the cold, away from that depressing gray sky. Dorothy Catalonia mentally noted to herself to check the weather first before scheduling another reunion meeting with the Vice Foreign Minister, and she should have never scheduled it on a Sunday morning when no one else worked except Relena Dorlain. The place seemed like a ghost town, with only a few tourists occasionally making an appearance. Dorothy lifted up a foot, but something seemed to offset her effort and drag her back. Immediately she glanced down at the source of her obstacle and saw a man clad in layers of old tattered clothes kneeling at her feet. His hand held tightly onto the bottom of her expensive coat. She pulled away, but he had no intension of letting go without getting what he wanted. Dorothy made another note to self: the building needed a better security staff. Homeless men like him shouldn't have been allowed to sleep on the steps. They should've been put in shelters in this weather.  
  
_And I don't have time for this._  
  
"Could you spare me some change, Lady?" The man pleaded shamelessly. His black hair was shaggy and untamed, and he gave off an odious odor.  
  
"Fine, as long as you let me go without tearing apart my coat." Dorothy dug her hand into her black purse and took out her wallet. "I don't carry a lot of cash, but here are thirty credits." He grabbed the paper with a hungry look in his eyes and began counting.  
  
The blond haired woman turned to leave but was halted once again by the man. This time he was standing humbly in front of her with somewhat of a bow. He took her hands despite her displeasure, and thanked her. She was more annoyed than touched and shrugged off his hands with haste. Whatever sympathy she held for the man was now replaced by disgust. Dorothy Catalonia was on a schedule, and she hated being late even if the meeting was casual.  
  
"Sir, would you please let go." She demanded in a cold voice.  
  
He complied, but not long after she was free to go, he surprised her by calling out her name.  
  
"Are you Miss Catalonia?" The sound was timid and cautious.  
  
She stopped in her tracks and turned back abruptly.  
  
"How do you know my name?" Her round blue eyes compressed into a thin line.  
  
"I thought I recognized you, Miss Catalonia." He walked up to her, and she could see a look of admiration in his eyes. "I...I was on Libra seven years ago. I was a mechanic there." He sounded rather nostalgic. A warm light glowed in his eyes but was gone before she could see it.  
  
"Were you a soldier?" She distanced herself by stepping back.  
  
"Yes, but I was more of a mechanic." His face flashed a shade of pink, and he looked away. "I didn't get to do any of the real fighting, but I was on Libra and I remembered seeing you there with Mr. Milliardo."  
  
Despite her outlook on wars, the past was not something Dorothy liked to dwell in, especially the part she had played.  
  
"I'm honored that you still remember me, but I'm afraid what's past should remain in the past. There is no sense in bringing it back for the sake of nostalgia." She put her hands in her coat pocket to avoid the cold. "There are things that needed to be done right now."  
  
He was silent after hearing her little speech. She couldn't leave now without settling this. Making a homeless man miserable was not on her agenda today nor did she ever want that to be on her already tainted resume.  
  
"Please excuse my rude comment." She made an effort to apologize. Her arms flinched a little but she did not offer a hand at him. "I was completely out of line."  
  
"That's fine. I get that a lot." He tried to laughed it off. Her lips curved up slightly to humor him, but Dorothy never smiled.  
  
"It was nice seeing a familiar face on this god-forsaken planet." He said bitterly. His frost-bitten hand still clasped tightly onto the paper currency. "I won't keep you away from the important things that you important people do nowadays." A sigh. "Thank you and take care, Miss Catalonia." He saluted, regaining some of the former dignity he had once held, and walked away without ever looking back.  
  
His words stung.  
  
She huddled her neck closer to the coat, hiding half of her face.  
  
---  
  
"Miss Relena, Miss Catalonia is here to see you." Dorothy waited outside the office until the secretary gestured her to go in.  
  
"It's been quite a while, Dorothy." Relena Dorlain sat behind her desk, hands supporting her chin, head tilted to the side, and studied her guest with her keen eyes. "I almost missed you." Her smile eased the formality of the office. In front of her were stacks of paper that needed reviewing.  
  
"That'll be the day, Relena." Dorothy sat herself down opposite her friend. "What, it's been two years since our last meeting, hasn't it?" She couldn't smile back. She was still somewhat plagued by her earlier encounter.  
  
"Well, I hear that you are doing quite well with yourself as the political consultant to the Preventers." A smirk. "Care to elaborate on that?"  
  
"You know I only took that job because I have nothing else better to do." She made a face. "I consult, if you must know."  
  
"We are doomed to this vicious circle forever." Relena sighed and stretched out her arms. A few joints made popping sounds.  
  
"It's what we are born to do. Don't complain, just do it." Dorothy crossed her legs and set her hands above her knee.  
  
"Is that your new motto or what?"  
  
"You haven't changed a bit." Miss Catalonia let out a small cackle.  
  
"Same to you." Relena adjusted her sitting position.  
  
A comfortable silence passed in which they both readjusted to each other's presence.  
  
"How is Zechs?" Dorothy asked her usual question while she leaned forward in the chair and removed her overcoat. She wore a plain black business suit underneath. "Still with the Terraforming project?"  
  
"Yes. I don't think he's ever coming back." Relena shook her head, but her face remained blank. The well-being of her only brother had no more meaning to her than a mere acknowledgment of a well-known fact. " Then again, what else is new."  
  
"At least you don't seem to hate him as much."  
  
"I've come to accept it as I accept everything else in life." Her hands played with a pen, twisting it around. "There is no sense in fighting this pointless fight."  
  
"Giving up so easily? I'm very disappointed in you, Miss Relena," came the famous mocking voice.  
  
"I do my job the best I can. I really don't ask that much in life. It's enough."  
  
"But it's never enough and you know it better than anyone." She paused, debating whether to tell her friend about the veteran she had just met outside of the Capitol. " Do you ever doubt?" She decided on a different approach. "About what you did I mean."  
  
"Believe it or not, I doubt everything I do, even what panties I choose to wear." Relena laughed but was not embarrassed at all. "But that's how I am able to grow."  
  
"I sometimes think what if the White Fang had succeeded in its goals, about what my life would be like afterwards." A sober tone.  
  
"And? Any epiphanies you've reached?" Relena was more amused than startled.  
  
"You sure have a funny way of dealing with things like this, Relena." Dorothy commented on her calm behavior.  
  
"I've acquired an odd sense of humor over the years." The Vice Foreign Minister gestured to her friend to continue.  
  
"Right." She returned to her original topic. "I don't have any regrets, but I doubt."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Everyone had a part to play, and we played them beautifully despite who we were. But we knew, in one way or another, that we could afford our parts. They didn't. The soldiers, the pawns we used didn't know their part in history and they surely didn't plan to make it out alive. I'm not talking about the Gundam Pilots. They knew. I'm talking about your average 18-year-old Joes who are now living on the streets because they can't find a job." She breathed finally.  
  
"Dorothy..." Relena's pen lay on the desk, motionless.  
  
"I was accosted by a homeless man outside just before I came here." She revealed her secret. "He was on Libra." She needed not to say more.  
  
"Did you know him?"  
  
"No." She shook her head slowly.  
  
"It isn't fair." Relena stared at the ceiling.  
  
"No. It is fair. It's too fair." Catalonia's hands remained steady on her lap.  
  
"What makes you say that we've got the right to sit here and sign their death sentence?" It was a mixture of guilt and accusation.  
  
"Because we have the talent, Relena. Because we are good at what we do." Dorothy argued.  
  
"I would call our talent a curse rather than a blessing."  
  
"Curse or not, I'm grateful for having it. That's the difference between us and the soldiers. Whether we were the heroes or the villains, we had the skills to keep ourselves on top, governing the new world order. We'll always be leaders, and don't you tell me you don't like having your powers."  
  
Silence. The solemn air grew dense as they sat in their seats, deep in thought. They hadn't talked about _it _at all, not in the past couple of times they'd met since the end of war. Subconsciously, they had been trying to avoid this particular subject.  
  
"Do you still believe in wars, Dorothy? Do you still believe that it is in our nature to fight?"  
  
"Why do you ask?" Her hands toyed with the strap of her purse.  
  
"Because I've come to a conclusion that is not too far from yours." Relena admitted reluctantly. "I can try to stop the fighting, which I have done on numerous occasions, but I cannot take away people's will to fight. I can only hope to be a voice of reason that might somehow calm people's anger."  
  
"It's not the will to fight, Relena. It's the will to win. It's all about winning." A bitter laugh. "War isn't about the beauty behind a person's emotions during battle; I was wrong. War is about winning. No one likes to be the loser, Relena. No one. The self-claimed losers are those who have lost the will to win, or they know they just can't win."  
  
"I disagree. The Gundam Pilots --"  
  
"The Gundam Pilots went into battle with a very clear goal, and that was to win, and they did win. It doesn't matter how they fought, they were the winners in the end. No one likes to lose, Relena. That is why your job is the hardest of them all. Your compromises make both parties losers, but don't you forget this - you are the winner. It's the same with me. I win when the Preventers take my advice and use it. It's very simple, yet I am constantly engaged in a war with other advisers who want my job."  
  
Relena tapped her pen gently on the desk. "If that is the case..."  
  
"I don't believe in wars, not anymore." Dorothy answered firmly. "I believe in winning."  
  
"Why the sudden change, Dorothy?" They both had been expecting this question.  
  
"Because I lost." A soft chuckle. "Believe it or not, losing the war seven years ago did teach me something. The beauty in taking action is only seen when you win in the end. Besides, I've got a job to save."  
  
"I thought you didn't care about the results." Relena had a sly look on her face.  
  
"No. But I was under the impression that I would win, Relena. I didn't expect human nature itself would turn against me. I guess you could call me weak, since after all, I was fooled by nature's unpredictability." Her hands were folded on her lap.  
  
"I see that you've been taking lessons from Wufei."  
  
"It's actually from Yuy." Her eyes flashed something wicked.  
  
"Same difference, if not more morbid." Relena shook her head and scribbled something on the paper in front of her.  
  
"Lunch?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Plans for lunch?" Dorothy never laughed wholeheartedly.  
  
Relena glanced at her watch, flipped the paperwork sitting on her desk, and contemplated silently for a brief second.  
  
"Sure. My treat?"  
  
"Yeah. I had to spend my lunch money on something more important this morning."  
  
Relena gave Dorothy an inscrutable look.  
  
"Hn," Dorothy smirked. Amusement tinged her lips, but didn't touch her eyes. She threw her coat over her arm. When she reached the door, she glanced back.  
  
"Are you coming? I don't know about you, but I don't have all day."  
  
End.  
  



End file.
